


Wanna Take A Ride On My Big Hurt

by Anonymous



Category: Generator Rex
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Flashback fic, KnightCap, M/M, Not Beta Read, Providence Assault Vehicle, Smut, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “‘Big Hurt?’” Calan drawled during the unveiling, trying not to sound jealous,”Why ‘Big Hurt?’”“Because it's Big,” White Knight smirked at him, a little bit of his teeth showing and damn if Calan’s heart stuttered a little, “and it hurts.”





	Wanna Take A Ride On My Big Hurt

Women like Rebecca Holiday had his respect and admiration entirely. Not solely because of the behavior instilled in Calan by his mother, who had been equal parts stern as she was loving, but because there was simply one word to describe women like Dr. Holiday. _Badass._ She carried herself with confidence, remained professional under circumstances where cadets sometimes cracked, and was sharp to the bone. This made him rather chivalrous in some ways, not because he felt these ladies were weaker, but in the same manner and respect one owed any equal.

He doesn’t doubt she heard the talk before he did.

_“How many dicks do you think she sucked to get to the top?”_

A bad taste embittered his mouth.

“What was that?” He called garnering the focus of the fresh faced recruits who flinched in immediate attention. Doctor Holiday arched a brow at him where she was eating her lunch for the day, but he wasn't looking at her.

“That's no way to speak about your betters. You've all earned yourself bathroom clean up duty for the next month.” He told them, but after a second thought he didn't feel as though that were punishment enough,”And Five laps around the petting zoo. I expect you all to deliver a handwritten apology to Dr. Holiday by tomorrow morning. Am I understood?”

“Sir!” They confirmed in chorus, signaling understanding without communicating the grief present on their faces. The Petting Zoo wasn't a particularly fun place. Neither were the bathrooms, especially when Bobo Haha was finished with it.

They scrambled off to get a start on things. If they were going to finish all five laps by nightfall they needed to work fast. Once it got darker, the task would become hazardous at best.

“You know,” Dr. Holiday’s rather critical tone cut through him,”That's a little harsh for silly gossip, Captain. My skin isn't that thin, in case you were worried.”

“It's more about respect ma'am, than it is anything else. You rank higher. They're new and would have learned that sooner or later.” Calan told her reasonably.

“As long as you didn't step in with the intention of playing,” Holiday’s lips curved in amusement,”White Knight.”

Suppressing a deep shiver at the obvious pun, he nodded back to her politely,”I would never dream of it.”

White Knight.

He knew she didn't mean the man himself, but his thoughts strayed toward their leader regardless. The reason for that sour note left on his tongue.

Back when Calan was newly promoted Sergeant, White Knight and his Partner Six ( _or was it the other way around_ ), swept in sensationally, stirring up whispers and admiration. Mercenaries hired by Providence, but Mercenaries with a _reputation_ for never striking out _._ Because they had been outsourced agents at the time, they had not fallen under Calan’s command, and because they had been Providence’s newest darlings, they outranked him. Maybe not officially, not in titles or credentials, but Calan had no authority over them.

And if it wounded his pride to see them succeed where his agents failed, Calan never said a word. The more important thing was that the world was just a little more safer for civilians. That was why they did it wasn't  it? Why Calan joined Providence right?

But the perks that came with the job never hurt that was for sure. He had been a young hotshot, aiming for position as Captain. The “perks” were something he’d foolishly let go to his head. He had forgotten the reason he'd joined the fight in the first place.

Maybe that's why, or a combination of many things, he ended up propositioning White Knight in the first place

In retrospect, doing so in one of Providence’s Assault Vehicles probably hadn't been the most appropriate time. It was special in that it was the first one specifically customized for Agent Six and White Knight. On the front the words _Big Hurt_ were sprayed on. It was meant to be intimidating. Calan only saw a remarkable piece of machinery defaced by men who had no business working equipment Agents trained _years_ to be able to handle.

“‘Big Hurt?’” Calan drawled during the unveiling, trying not to sound jealous,”Why ‘Big Hurt?’”

“Because it's Big,” White Knight smirked at him, a little bit of his teeth showing and damn if Calan’s heart stuttered a little, “and it hurts.”

There was teasing in his eyes, a little bit of amusement. Knight was flirting, he had to be.  

Knight had a sway in Providence. Making a successful pass at him would secure anyone into a higher position in the long run. It was a smart move, especially when Calan was sure that the Mercenary swung that way. There were _rumors_ about him and his “partner.” They were close enough for Calan to believe them.

That's what surged Calan forward. That and everyone else had cleared out of the vehicle sometime ago. They were alone and he was burning with jealousy (or was it desire?).

He’d gotten closer without even knowing, could taste the scent of Knight’s breath on his tongue like mint. Knight’s eyes narrowed at him, almost blinding him. For a moment Calan had wondered if that was why they called him The White Knight. Because he was bright like the same glaringly reflective color.

 

A hand on his chest shoved him back into the control board very dangerously.

“Just what do you think you're doing there?” Knight’s voice cut into him, stopping him in his tracks.

Calan hadn't been injured by the shove. Providence suits were made to withstand more. Still, he was left reeling mentally. He hadn't had the foresight to plan in case he was _rejected._

“I thought you were- But you and Six.”

“We’re not. _I’m_ not.” Knight’s narrowed eyes flashed with curiosity despite his words that adopted a threatening edge,“What _did_ you think, sergeant?”

Calan could not say anything so Knight continued.

“That what? That once everyone cleared out you could corner me? And I'd _let_ you?”

Calan was stuck on his stare. He had nothing to say to defend himself. The Mercenary was spot on. And Calan had to be imagining the way Knight’s deep green eyes darkened and flickered to his mouth.

He hadn't been imagining it.

“Are you going to say something or balk at me the entire time? Where's that confidence now, hotshot?” He pushed Calan again, only this time, the Sergeant stumbled back even more. His back hit a empty spot on the control panel.

"You want me to say something?” He asked, a cold edge in his tone.

Knight had been gearing up to sneer more things at him when a paused, an inkling of surprised satisfaction flashing across his face.

“Now you’re starting to sound like my partner.” He said, grabbed his jaw in one of his hands, and squeezed,”On second thought, no. You’re pretty enough when you don't say anything at all.”

_Pretty._

Red flushed from his nose to the tips of his ears.

 

He said nothing.

Maybe a small part of him wanted to obey just like that. Maybe that's why he didn't attempt fighting him off. (Maybe he had been wanting this for a while) It was what he'd set out to do wasn't it? Although, in his fantasies  initial plan, he'd pictured _himself_ as the one taking the lead.

 

He wasn't picky.

Knight looked curious, contemplative. Before Calan could even anticipate it, he was pulling out a blade from somewhere Calan could not see. The moment its sharp metallic glint caught his eye, the Sergeant tensed. No, Knight wouldn't--

He didn't, the blade didn't even come close to Calan’s skin. Instead, Knight flung the knife so that it went whizzing like a boomerang. One by one, The Big Hurt’s security cameras went down. The precision and skill sent Calan’s erection flagging painfully into the protective metal cup of his uniform.

“This what you wanted?” Knight asked, clearly intending it as a rhetorical question as he let go of Calan’s jaw, yanking the white bulletproof vest open. It happened whiplash fast, but Calan didn’t exactly want to waste time either, letting it fall off his shoulders easily.

The sergeant’s arm came down to brace himself up on the control panel, his palm landing on a button in miscalculation. The lights that had been illuminating the inside of the vehicle in low light increased in intensity. Knight squinted and raised a hand over his eyes. It took Calan a few seconds to get used to it too. The sudden brightness brought Knight sharply into focus in his eyes at the cost of making Calan feel more exposed.

“Watch where you’re flailing!” Knight barked at him harshly as his eyes adjusted to the harsh lighting.

“ _You_ shoved me into the control board. With all due respect, that's your fault.”

Knight didn't fight him on that. In fact, he let go of Calan all together, stepping backward. He pushed himself up from the control panel, wondering if he had ruined the mood and turned Knight off.

“I'll find the switch for the lights-” Calan started but Knight had already made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat. The Mercenary turned it to face him, fixing him with an annoyed grimace.

“Just leave it and get over here. We don't need the low lighting. This isn't one of your little erotic dime store novels, sergeant.” Knight beckoned him over.

Calan moved, orders were orders after all. He stood in front of Knight, upper body bared for his appraising eyes, under harsh lighting that shadowed no skin, hid nothing. The Mercenary did not touch him. Calan never considered himself a self conscious person, but now the lack of action on Knight’s part was enough to send anticipation crawling on his skin. He’d never imagined-- never _wanted_ to be someone who sold themselves out with sex.

Because Knight wasn't acting, Calan did, dropping to his knees in front of him. He was an eager dog for reward, reaching out to unbuckle his belt. He’d removed it when a hand gripped Calan’s wrists firmly, restricting his movement.

“I didn't say you could touch me yet.” White Knight breathed roughly, grip tightening on his limbs though not painfully. A moan of disappointment built in Calan’s throat but thankfully died before it was vocalized.

Knight’s still too curious eyes were on Calan’s mouth. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the Mercenary had a fixation for his lips. It was more likely that the man hadn't done anything like this before and was experimenting. Calan wondered if he was Knight's first. It was stupid the way the thought sent Calan’s heart fluttering. This wasn't a romantic endeavour.

"Your mouth…” Knight finally released the tight grip he had him by,”Only your mouth…”

He didn't say _what_ he would do if Calan used his hands too.

Calan leaned forward nosing at Knight’s crotch, the musky scent of arousal most prominent there. The man hardened beneath his searching lips, a tell tale swell of attraction that couldn't spell it out more obviously for Calan. He was having an affect on the Mercenary. He closed his mouth around his clothed cock, breathing hotly against him. The fabric dampened from his warm breath and tongue. Knight's answering groan made him bolder.

Between his teeth, he caught the zipper to Knight’s pants, pulling slowly to expose his dick. Already forming at the slit was a string of precum, glossing the head scarlet. He was by no stretch of the imagination small, but nothing about Knight was really small.

Breaking his thoughts were fingers pressing into Calan’s mouth, prying open his lips without hesitation.  He immediately opened his mouth for Knight’s probing fingers, which curved and dragged him forward by his front teeth. The force it put on them inspired a wince.

Knight guided him to his jutting arousal.

"Suck, or this won't be very good for you.”

Calan swallowed nerves, dragging his tongue along the length of his dick, unable to look up into Knight's morbidly fascinated gaze.

“Well look at you... You don't need to be told twice.” Knight murmured, and Calan shuddered. It wasn't a displeased shudder. He took the head into his mouth and began lightly sucking. Applying the most softest pressure to the base with his fingers, he tasted, testing the waters.  Bitterness assaulted his tongue, a taste Calan wasn't positive was pleasant but didn't have time to properly judge.  Knight threaded his fingers into Calan’s honey blonde hair and pushed in deeper, hitting the back of his throat where there was no sensation of taste.

Calan’s eyes watered, swallowing a few times so he wouldn't choke on him. A deep groan sounded from Knight; he thrusted back and forth, Calan’s throat constricting around his cock in his attempts not to gag. Spit pooled at the corner of his lip before dripping down his jaw. It earned him a look of disdain from above him.

“Don't make a mess or I'll make you clean it with your tongue.” He threatened, not knowing that he just gave Calan _incentive_ to drool on him.

In order to keep it clean, to ensure he did not leak or spill anything onto Knight’s pants, he held his tongue still. The thick member glided in and out of his mouth, making him choke every time it struck the back of his throat. Soreness slackened his jaw the longer he held his waiting mouth open, dull at first but growing with time until it was an ache he was sure he would feel hours later.

Fortunately he was spared when Knight pulled out. A thin strand of persistent saliva clung embarrassingly to Calan’s lip but Knight wasn't paying attention to his mouth anymore. He had satiated that fixation he felt after using it.

“Drop your pants,” Knight ordered, moving on and now seeking something more, pushing further to see how far Calan was willing to bend for him. Even at the cost of his dignity.

Calan’s hand went to the buckle of his pants. He was having second thoughts, belated second thoughts at this point. It was too late to have any ounce of shame. But they were in a semi public location where anyone could walk in. How fast could he be dropped from Providence if they saw him bent over for one of their respected outsourced agents? His hands stilled on his belt. It was that or lose whatever favor he had from Knight. He lowered his pants and rested against a clear spot on the control panel. He had to keep very still in order not to hit anything.

Two of Knight’s spit slicked fingers forced their way into Calan, and the Sergeant hissed in discomfort. He swallowed his cries so that they died in his throat with each slide of Knight’s digits.

“Keep real quiet… unless you want your Providence pals coming in here. What would they think of you if they saw you like this?” Knight teased with a particularly hard jab of his fingers. Calan gashed his teeth together, struggling to stay still in his place, fighting not to squirm when those fingers probed in deeper. They parted, prying him open in preparation for, what Calan knew, something bigger. He slammed a hand down on the control panel, hitting blank space out of sheer luck.

“Just fuck me already…” Calan hissed out when Knight's digits finally jabbed his prostate, sending a shock of pleasure tingling down his legs curling his toes when he could not stand it. He had to bite his lip to muffle something that could have been a cry when the man’s fingers hooked and curled inside him.

Knight snorted, not readily doing what Calan pleaded of him.

“Tapping out already? Aren't Providence agents trained in endurance? You don't have a lick of it or patience.” He chided,”I ought to bend you over my knee for trying to tell _me_ how to fuck you, Sergeant.”

Calan bit into a knuckle, clenching around those slick digits as Knight pulled his fingers out, making sure they dragged slowly. Knight didn't leave him waiting, kicking his legs apart once he slipped his fingers out of him. Calan’s boots provided no friction against the smooth floors of the Big Hurt. They skid when kicked, slipping and sliding beneath him in an effort to hold him up when Knight moved behind him, pushing him down between the shoulder blades. Calan’s full weight was forced onto the empty control panel.  Once he did regain his balance, his legs were splayed in a manner that left him very vulnerable.

His cock left a smear of precum against the side of the control panel, and Knight moved directly behind him. The Mercenary slicked his dick up with spit, but didn't enter him. He let his member slide up against the cleft of his ass instead, gliding in between his cheeks. Calan’s body shuddered at the slow teasing. It was almost threatening, edged away from where Calan wanted it the most.

“No, I'm not that easy. I want you to beg me.” Knight chuckled quietly, guiding the head of his cock into him and only the head. Calan bit back all the desperate noises that bubbled in his throat, trying to press back against Knight where he could feel himself clench around him. He arched and swiveled his hips to no avail. Knight was an unyielding weight above him. He gritted his teeth. Maybe promotion wasn't worth begging in front of a Mercenary.

But that resolve leaped out the window when he felt Knight nudging into him a little more. He sucked a quick breath through his teeth and closed his eyes. When he broke, it happened slowly, shattering at White Knight’s hand; and just like that it wasn't about promotion at all. Just pure physical need.

“Please…” Calan said, embarrassment pooling in his cheeks, flushing the back of his neck and bare shoulders all for Knight.

“Please what?” Knight gave a mocking jeer, “What do you want?”

“Your _cock. P-Please, I need your cock.”_

Knight abruptly slammed his hips forward, and though Calan had been stretched already, it seared, his tight channel forced open by Knight’s girth. A pathetic whine slipped out from between his teeth, head bowing into the wings of his hunched shoulders. A jolt of pleasurable pain left a burning signature in Knight’s slow draw out of him.

"So damn tight…” Knight cursed, having never had a better fuck, punctuating his statement in the next drive of his hips. Calan grunted into the heated metal, hand moving to his own dick. He was stopped by the other man yanking his hand away, pinning them both to the panel.

“You think you're too good for my cock? You were begging for it weren't you? I expect you to be able to come untouched after all your whining.” Knight growled into his ear, chest and hips pressed flush against him. Calan writhed, gasping for air when the Mercenary began to sinfully grind up against him, a tortuous rotation of his hips while he held Calan still.

He could hold Calan down all he wanted to, it did not stop the tremble that began in his legs from having them splayed open for so long. That's what made it terribly easy. Knight seized the opportunity and Calan’s hips, pitching them backward into the Big Hurt’s driver’s seat.

The movement _impaled_ the Sergeant on Knight’s dick, seating him in his lap. It happened so quickly, that Calan’s mouth dropped open.Knight bottomed out, pressing in fully so that there was nowhere left to go and there was no way Calan could move.

“ _God_ …” Calan whispered, broken and pleading.

“No. God’s got nothin’ to do with this.” Knight smirked, a little twitch of his lips. His large hands gripped him by the thighs, tightening hard enough so that his fingers would leave purple bruise marks later, and he began to piston his hips. Knight groaned hotly against the side of his neck, jabbing that spot in a repeating grind of his hips. Calan quickly began nearing his edge, tightening around Knight, only to be cut short. Knight's hand clamped down on his dick, cutting off release. Something like a ragged sob ripped from Calan’s chest-

 

Fingers snapped in front of Calan’s face, drawing him out of his reverie. Dr. Holiday’s face was suddenly there in his line of sight, seated at the cafeteria table like she had been the entire time. She looked at him bizarrely. She couldn't see it, but Calan had a new problem. His erection was hidden by a metallic protective cup. It wasn't visible but the cup made things painfully uncomfortable.

 

“Captain?”

 

“Sorry. What was that?”

“I asked if you were going to sit down and join me for lunch but you didn't answer.” Dr. Holiday replied with questioning eyes.

 

“Sorry I was just… lost in thought.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some of u may ask: what compelled u to write a work such as this  
> To which i reply:¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯


End file.
